


Sparksong for Eurydice

by Useless19



Series: MegOP Week [5]
Category: Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers: Prime
Genre: (He gets better), Character Death, M/M, No predacons rising au, Underworld
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-09
Updated: 2020-01-09
Packaged: 2021-02-27 10:49:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,453
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22185886
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Useless19/pseuds/Useless19
Summary: "My namesake," Megatronus Prime gestured to Megatron’s husk with a translucent, ghostly hand, "his spark hasn’t become one with the Allspark. Unicron holds it."I can help you retrieve it."For MegOP week, Day 5: Deity/Fairy Tale
Relationships: Megatron/Optimus Prime
Series: MegOP Week [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1593355
Comments: 10
Kudos: 119
Collections: MegOP Week 2020





	Sparksong for Eurydice

Megatron’s deactivated frame was difficult to look at. Atmospheric reentry had scorched his plating, thinning armour and melting wiring just below the heavy steel. A few weeks spent at the bottom of Earth’s oceans had only served to introduce what would have been a nasty rust infection, had he still been functioning.

And there was the shard of dark energon in his spark chamber, split in two where the Star Saber had extinguished Megatron’s spark.

Optimus removed it. It held no glow, no remnant of Unicron’s power, and sat inert in Optimus's servo.

"You did not need to do this," Optimus said.

Megatron, of course, said nothing. However, someone else answered.

"And what would you know of desperation, Thirteen?"

Optimus spun, combat systems onlining rapidly. A heavy battle mech stood behind him. Blue and dark grey and bristling with weaponry. He stood taller than Optimus and the force of his presence nearly matched Unicron’s.

"I know you," Optimus said, certain of it, yet he couldn’t remember a designation or what their past relationship might have been.

"Of course you do." The stranger circled until Megatron’s frame was between him and Optimus. "You knew me _well_ once. It doesn’t surprise me that in your rebirth you ended up just as entwined with my namesake as you had once been with _me_."

It didn’t take the Matrix’s helpful pulse to realise what he meant.

"Megatronus Prime. The Fallen."

"Can one ever truly be fallen when it was forced?" Megatronus asked rhetorically. "Did I fall, or did the other Primes hold me down? And for what?"

"Primus should not be destroyed." The words came more from the Matrix than Optimus.

Megatronus huffed and waved a dismissive servo. He wasn’t quite real — Optimus could see the horizon through his frame if he looked hard enough — but Optimus didn't want to test if those weapons were just for show if he could help it.

"Why are you here?" Optimus asked.

"To help you."

"I will do nothing to hurt Primus or his children," Optimus warned.

"I have other ambitions," Megatronus said. "Do you really not trust me, Thirteen? You did once."

Whatever echoes of a past life the Matrix could give Optimus were not enough. He did not know this mech, not truly.

And he had a lifetime of learning not to trust freely.

"My namesake," Megatronus gestured to Megatron’s husk when Optimus said nothing, "his spark hasn’t become one with the Allspark. Unicron holds it."

Optimus looked at the broken shards of dark energon in his servo, a sick feeling low in his tanks. Megatron would not have needed to turn to Unicron if Optimus had been a better Prime.

By his death or Megatron's, this could have been avoided.

"I can help you retrieve it."

"Why?" Optimus wanted to take the offer so, so much, but he could not place his desires above those of a freshly-awoken Cybteron. He had to know the cost.

"I helped you defeat Unicron once, Thirteen, I don’t wish to see him win even this much."

There had to be more to it. Megatron would not have made such a simple deal without an ulterior motive. However, Optimus couldn’t think over the lightness of his spark.

And hadn’t Megatron once agree to defeat Unicron without trying to backstab Optimus?

"How do we obtain Megatron’s spark?"

Megatronus smirked like he was in on a joke. "That will be up to you. I can lead you to the Pit and act as your guide, but I have no true presence." He held out a clawed hand. "Come."

Optimus reached forward and grasped Megatronus’s surprisingly solid servo.

Megatronus grinned and the world melted away.

* * *

Optimus awoke in a place that was both exactly where he’d been and somewhere else entirely. The horizon was the same shape and the ground familiar beneath his feet.

However, Megatron’s dead frame had vanished and the stars were a bloody purple, arranged in constellations that Optimus didn't know.

"Unicron’s Pit of tormented sparks."

"I always found that name overblown," Megatronus said. "Unicron has so few sparks in his clutches these days."

"Which way should we travel?" Optimus asked.

"Do you have anything of his? Something close to his spark?"

Optimus opened his servo, the shards of dark energon had passed across with him. They gave off a faint purple glow, possibly revived by being in the Pit. As Optimus turned, the glow brightened, then faded again.

How similar to the key to Vector Sigma. Primus and Unicron were more alike than anyone gave them credit for.

"This way." Optimus transformed and started driving when the shards shone brightest.

"Kaon, of course," Megatronus said, his tank vehicle mode falling into line alongside Optimus. "Don’t be surprised, the geography of the Pit doesn’t match the living world exactly. It’s all about _perception_."

"Names hold power," Optimus said. "And Kaon is located in the worst end of the world, as everyone knows."

"Precisely."

They passed no other sparks. Optimus's paint crawled and the Matrix pulsed a discordant rhythm against his spark.

It did not like this place and neither did Optimus.

"Memories, Thirteen?" Megatronus's voice pulled Optimus out of his dread.

"I have no recollection of this place," Optimus said.

"How can you not find this familiar? The constellations, travelling together again. Is there _nothing_ of me in your databanks, Thirteen?"

"I am not him," Optimus said.

"I recognise your spark," Megatronus shot back. "You are the mech I knew once, child of Primus, the thirteenth Prime. Even though Primus Himself bade me delete the memory, I will never forget you, Thirteen."

"I have a designation," Optimus said evenly.

"One you chose to forget. The sparklings of Cybertron call you Thirteen — if they call you anything at all — why shouldn't I?"

"So I should call you the Fallen?"

"Do _not_ , Thirteen."

The vehemence of the reply didn't surprise Optimus, but the electric wave of _hatred_ Megatronus spat at him made him fishtail. The rusted metal ground made it difficult to regain traction. He wasn’t driving on Cybertron’s well-formatted roads anymore.

They travelled in silence after that.

* * *

Optimus heard the cheers before he saw the arena. Bloodthirsty jeers and shrieks of terror and excitement. His spark recoiled at the prospect of energon and oil spilt purely for amusement, but he had always loved watching Megatron fight, even when merely Orion Pax.

"Typical grandstanding," Megatronus grumbled from behind Optimus.

"They’re cheering your name," Optimus said.

"But not _me_."

Optimus knew the back entrances to the arena well. Megatronus didn’t argue when he put his shoulder to an old emergency exit and shoved until it opened. The right way then.

The dilapidated corridors were unnervingly empty. In Optimus’s previous experience, gladiators normally filled the whole place. Soundwave was notably absent; he’d often been Orion’s guide when Megatronus had been busy in a fight or with other business.

Megatronus Prime sneered at the surroundings.

"He dared use _my_ name when he came from _here?_ "

"‘When you have fallen, there is nothing to do but _rise up_ ’." Optimus quoted.

"Wait," Megatronus reached over Optimus and held the door to the gladiator waiting chambers closed. "I must know. Why him?"

"You will have to be more specific."

"I accept your rebirth, even I can’t understand it," Megatronus said, leaning into Optimus’s face. "But why obsess over this… this _shadow_ of me, Thirteen? Why not just _stay?_ "

The Matrix answered for Optimus. "Because you Fell and I could not bear it."

Optimus used the stricken jolt of surprise from Megatronus to push through the final door.

Megatron was waiting, stood with his back to Optimus. He was looking through the portcullis, waiting for his opponent to be announced.

_"They always make the more renowned gladiator wait," he’d explained to Orion, once, long ago, "the crowd likes to cheer their favourite more and nothing makes a fight a failure than a mediocre reception breaking up the hype. I’ve been called second for over a thousand years," he’d added smugly._

"Megatron?" Optimus found himself at a loss for words. What to say to a mech you’d seen die?

Megatron gave no indication that he’d heard him. On closer inspection, he was sluggishly leaking energon from several shallow cuts and he’d lost half his left pauldron.

"He can’t hear you," Megatronus said from the doorway. He was watching Megatron with an unreadable expression on his faceplates.

" _Prepare your optics for this next match!_ " An announcer’s voice filtered tinnily through a speaker above the portcullis. " _Frak versus Megatronus!_ "

The portcullis lifted and Megatron strode out into the energon-slick floor of the arena. His opponent, an Autobot that Optimus recalled had died shortly before they’d been forced to leave Cybertron, snarled across the expanse of the pit.

Optimus followed Megatron out. As he expected, neither combatant paid him any attention. He used the opportunity to look at the audience, half expecting to see himself as Orion cheering Megatron on.

Instead, he saw row upon row of twisted purple creatures, greatly resembling the antibodies he’d fought alongside Megatron inside Unicron’s body.

Some of their single-optic gazes lingered on Optimus long enough for him to realise they _knew_ he was here, but, inevitably, they were drawn back to the upcoming fight.

Megatron raised his cannon and fired off a shot the moment the bell rang. Frak didn’t dodge in time and a chunk of his torso was blown off, taking his arm with it. He threw himself at Megatron with a vicious shriek, a drill transforming out of his remaining arm.

There was no joy in Megatron’s expression as he sidestepped the drill and swung his sword through Frak’s waist, making use of the damage he’d already inflicted to bisect him.

Frak kept trying to fight, but it ended quickly when Megatron put his foot on his helm and _stomped_. Optics shattered and deactivated and Frak’s movements ceased.

Without a word, Megatron returned to the waiting chamber, leaving Frak’s corpse to be set upon by the audience. They tore into the parts with a rabid frenzy Optimus had only seen in the dead soldiers Megatron had risen with Unicron’s blood.

He left them to it and hurried to make sure he reached the waiting room before the portcullis fell shut again.

Megatron had resumed his position in front of the bars, watching the carnage dispassionately.

"What is going on?" Optimus asked Megatronus, who was still waiting by the door.

"This isn’t the loving embrace of the Allspark, Thirteen," Megatronus said. "The Pit is for _punishment_. Every Cybertronian he’s ever killed, he has to fight again. I’d wager he’s been fighting since your scout plunged Solus’s sword through his spark and he’s barely made a dent in the list."

"What happens if he loses?" Optimus asked.

Megatronus nodded towards the now-empty arena. "I think you can imagine."

Megatron would not survive forever. He was a good fighter, but this unending stream of opponents would tire him eventually. Some of his original victories had been extremely hard-won the first time around.

"What can I do?" Optimus said.

"I’m sure you’ll think of something," Megatronus said easily. "You always were creative, Thirteen."

" _Get ready for Cluster versus Megatronus!_ " The announcer called.

Optimus followed Megatron out onto the arena floor again. This time his opponent was a first responder, her twin helicopter rotors clattered menacingly against her back as she took her position.

Megatron made no such threatening motions. He was silent and focused and — for the first time Optimus had ever seen in a fight — devoid of manic joy.

 _Punishment_. And what better way than to destroy something Megatron revelled in.

Megatron attempted the same opening shot as last time, but Cluster was too fast on the dodge. She whirled towards them, blades flashing in violent distraction. A ghostly swathe of Unicron’s bloody purple trailed after her.

Optimus readied his own blades. Megatron’s sword _thunk_ ed into position.

Megatron moved, meeting Cluster before she was ready. His sword tangled one of her rotors and he grabbed her by the throat with his free hand. Energon, unnaturally purple, spat from Cluster’s mouth.

She jerked. Her right arm twisted awkwardly with an unhealthy grinding of transformation. Optimus saw what she was doing and rushed forward, catching the blades of her secondary rotor with his own blades before she sliced into Megatron with them.

Megatron flinched. " _Optimus?_ "

Optimus turned his helm and met startled red optics.

For a moment the world was still.

Then Cluster transformed just enough to sink her denta into Megatron’s wrist. He yelled and threw her back. The motion took him into contact with Optimus, but instead of bumping plating — as they had once, side by side, so long ago — they intersected.

When Megatron’s optics searched for Optimus again, he could not see him.

Cluster gave a static-y shriek, but the fight was over. Her twisted transformations had left her slow and clumsy and vulnerable to Megatron’s fusion cannon blasts.

The audience once again descended on the loser. Megatron looked over the arena one last time, then stomped back to his waiting room.

Optimus followed, but no matter how much he tried, he couldn’t grab Megatron’s arm. His fingers would just slip through heavy plating.

The portcullis fell.

"You’re imagining things," Megatron muttered to himself. "Don’t be ridiculous, Optimus wouldn’t be here."

"I _am_ here, Megatron." Optimus hesitated with his servo over Megatron’s chest. "I’ve come for you."

He pressed his servo to Megatron’s Decepticon symbol. Energon-sticky, warm, _living_ metal touched his palm and Megatron’s optics snapped to Optimus’s.

"Optimus?" A gasp of disbelief.

"Megatron." Optimus nearly sobbed in relief. "I’m here."

"In the Pit?" Megatron gave a shuddering vent and the next moment his features fell to fury. "Do you think I’m so easy to trick, Unicron?"

His sword engaged with a familiar _thunk_ and he swung forwards. The second Optimus’s hand left his chest to scramble some limited defence, his optics lost focus and the blade passed through Optimus without a mark.

Megatron’s expression turned wry and he turned his gaze back to the empty arena. "I thought so," he said, bitterly.

Optimus quieted his combat protocols. Clearly, he wouldn’t be able to persuade Megatron so easily. But then, did he have to?

"It’s just his spark I’m looking for," Optimus said, looking over at Megatronus. "His frame is still in our world, isn’t it?"

"True, though transporting a spark alone is no easy feat," Megatronus said.

"I have done it before, I can do it again."

Optimus ran a full venting cycle. The announcer started up again, he didn’t have long.

Carefully, Optimus pushed his hand against then _through_ Megatron’s chest. Megatron’s armour and circuitry felt like liquid mercury against the metal of Optimus’s digits, but he kept going until he reached something scorchingly hot and solid. Nothing Optimus tried made it any less real.

Optimus curled his servo gently around Megatron’s spark and _pulled_.

Megatron screamed. Hurt, betrayed optics found Optimus’s and his frame desperately tried to solidify around Optimus’s wrist.

But there were two real things here and Megatron’s frame was not one of them. Optimus pulled Megatron’s spark out with no more struggle than the time he’d had to yank Bumblebee out of some fresh tar.

Megatron's frame vanished. Optimus cradled the brilliantly bright spark in his hands against his windscreen.

"Not bad," Megatronus said. "But you’ve drawn some attention with that stunt."

Optimus looked through the bars of the portcullis. The twisted creatures in the audience were all looking at him. There was no sign of Megatron’s next opponent, but the portcullis began to rise anyway.

Holding Megatron’s spark as hard as he dared, Optimus turned and ran. A rush of chittering and wings sounded behind him. The audience were coming for their next meal.

The tunnels beneath the arena where the gladiators lived were labyrinthine. Optimus knew one or two paths well, but he'd never had to find his route this fast. There had always been a gladiator or two to ask for directions if he got lost.

He made a wrong turn and found himself at the head of a tunnel that sloped further underground.

The audience was getting closer. Optimus ran down the tunnel.

"They're catching up," Megatronus said, keeping pace with Optimus easily.

"Which is the quickest path to the surface?" Optimus asked.

Megatronus faded almost completely, then a second later he was solid again.

"This way."

Megatronus led Optimus down several passageways and through two sets of rusted and barred doors before they finally reached the surface. This distant rumble of a thousand clawed appendages filled Optimus’s audials.

"Quickly." Megatronus transformed and started racing through Kaon’s dusty streets with more speed than any tank had a right to.

Optimus spared a moment to transform carefully around Megatron’s spark, tucking it into his passenger seat and securing it snugly with his seatbelt, before he too throttled his engine and roared off.

An audience creature caught Optimus’s rear bumper. It tore off a chunk of metal before Optimus was able to shake it. The swarm slowed, fighting each other for the scrap.

It was enough of a headstart that Optimus didn’t see any more of them once he left Kaon’s limits. Or perhaps they could not leave the city.

"Bravo, Thirteen." Megatronus was waiting for him. "Now all we need to do is return to the place we entered the Pit."

"I see," Optimus said. He loosened his seatbelt from Megatron’s spark, worried it would extinguish if he held too hard. "Thank you for your assistance, Megatronus Prime."

"Don’t count your robo-chickens just yet. We’re only halfway done," Megatronus laughed.

* * *

Optimus awoke with an odd warmth against his chest. He onlined his optics and sat up, nearly dislodging the spark clinging with hot static to his windscreen.

They’d made it and Megatronus had pulled them back through but —

Megatron’s frame was watching him.

"What —?"

"Hello, Thirteen," Megatronus said with Megatron’s voice. He grinned with Megatron’s mouth. "Thank you for freeing my namesake from Unicron’s influence, I wouldn’t have made it this far without you."

Optimus got to his feet. "That is not your frame, release him."

"He used my name," Megatronus spat. "Such a daring insult has _consequences_."

Megatron’s spark pulsed in Optimus's servos. It was so fragile. If Megatronus started a fight there would be no protection for it.

"Pledge your spark to me and relinquish the Matrix," Megatronus said, "and I’ll consider letting go of this frame — once I have procured another, more suitable one."

"No." Optimus’s battle mask slammed shut.

"All you have to do is renounce Primus," Megatronus bargained. "I won’t ask you to help me kill him — I see now that I shouldn’t have asked it of you previously — just to not stand in my way while I extinguish his spark."

"No."

"You really think he cares about us? Primus and Unicron, two halves of the same coin. If Unicron is evil and needed destroying, why not balance the scales? Let us manage our own fate, not be subject to the whims of an uncaring creature that calls itself our god."

"Primus provides life," Optimus said. "His revivification has made Cybertron habitable again and given our species a future. I will not let anyone threaten that."

Megatronus laughed. "So why bring Cybertron’s biggest butcher back? I know you can be selfish, Thirteen." His smile — Megatron’s smile — slid into the vicious pre-battle smirk Optimus knew well. "Perhaps I need to give you some _incentive_."

He charged Megatron’s cannon and blasted it at Megatron’s spark against Optimus’s chest. Optimus turned away from the blow, shielding the flaring spark with his frame.

It hurt, Megatron’s blows always did, but Optimus had been fighting Megatron for millennia and knew what to expect. That Megatronus was pulling the strings was no different from the times Megatron had discovered or developed a new fighting style.

He might not win, but he would not lose.

But he couldn’t fight effectively and properly protect an unshielded spark at the same time.

There was no time to think. Optimus opened his chest plates and pressed Megatron’s spark into his own, into the Matrix of Leadership.

 _— furypainjoyfuryfuryamusementfury_ —

 _Optics on your opponent. He’ll be bringing his sword down at_ —

Optimus turned and caught the blow with his forearm. It bit deep, but Optimus’s armour was upgraded by the Forge of Solus Prime and could withstand it.

_— that angle. Swing kick coming up, duck the following punch, shove to make space, move your feet, lead with your right, lean back and shoot…_

The instructions were coming too fast for Optimus to process. His usual method of leaning on his experiences coupled with the Matrix’s guidance hadn’t prepared him for making good use of Megatron’s own experience and the implicit imperatives that were being forced into his spark from the merge.

— _now!_

Optimus's arm jerked and he missed the shot.

Megatronus’s fist collided with his face, sending him flying backwards.

"I can’t concentrate with you trying to take control," Optimus said, shaking his helm.

— _furyfuryfurylovefuryfrustration_ —

Optimus ignored the emotions bleeding into his own as best he could and engaged Megatronus again. Blades clashed with a shower of sparks.

Megatronus brought his left arm up and… didn't hit Optimus. He was acting like he still had weapons in both servos and the confused pause gave Optimus the chance to score a hit and make some space.

Time to press the offensive. Megatron had always had a blind spot to —

Megatronus parried Optimus's swing.

_You’re not fighting me._

An obvious thought, yet Optimus had been treating Megatronus like Megatron, purely because of the frame he held.

The Matrix was useless when Optimus tried to call upon its guidance. All it returned was the surety that Optimus was about to die because last time he'd fought Megatronus he'd had eleven allies and there had still been casualties.

Even with his stolen frame half burnt and rusted to scrap, Megatronus was holding his own. No, Megatronus was _beating_ him.

Optimus hit the ground, vents coming in harsh pants.

_He knows how you fight._

"Still trying to fill a warrior’s role, Thirteen?" Megatronus approached languidly. "I know it’s not in your nature, but give in, just this once, and I’ll let you live."

 _He’s never fought_ me.

Optimus relinquished control, handing over his motor functions and frontal processors. Megatron got to his feet and gave his new frame a shake.

"Let’s see how much further you can fall," Megatron said.

Megatronus narrowed his optics. "So be it."

This time when they clashed it was far more vicious than when Optimus had been fighting. Sparks showered at every blow. Optimus felt notches being bashed out of his armour and swords every time Megatron blocked and energon, tacky and frighteningly violet, dripping down his plating — but it was all through a filter, like he was trying to make out fine visual detail in vehicle mode.

Megatron kicked, catching Megatronus in the centre of his torso and sending him flying back. He followed quickly, pressing the advantage.

A strange happiness flooded Optimus, before he realised it belonged to Megatron. Joy at combat — combat that _meant_ something — and a relief that Unicron’s bastardised Pits of Kaon hadn’t ruined fighting for him.

And there, almost entirely hidden, a small, precious warmth connected to protecting Optimus.

Megatronus snarled, brought up his cannon and — _there!_ — Optimus saw the opening a split-second after Megatron took it.

Optimus’s blade stabbed deep into Megatron’s chest, further bisecting his Decepticon brand. Megatron pulled his arm back and watched, dispassionately, as Megatronus fell back, crashing to the ground with a cloud of rust.

"It won’t work," Megatronus gasped. "It… won’t…"

For the second time in a month, Megatron’s frame deactivated in front of Optimus’s optics. He was glad Megatron still held control of his body as the grief hit.

"Why, Optimus, anyone would think you cared about me," Megatron mocked with Optimus’s voice.

_I can’t watch again._

Megatron closed his optics and took a deep vent.

"Thank you," he said softly. "Even if this is the last time I see you, I am still grateful that I can die in my own frame and not be held under Unicron’s influence forever."

_You can’t —_

"Goodbye, Optimus Prime."

Megatron faded back and Optimus could finally feel the full extent of the damage to his frame. He took a shaky step, half-convinced he was going to fall. He didn’t, not until he reached Megatron’s frame.

"It might not work," Optimus said quietly. It had to. It _had_ to.

Megatronus couldn’t be right.

— _furyloveloveloveforgivenesslovesorrowlove_ —

Optimus opened Megatron’s chest plate — now easy with two stab wounds through the centre — and had to close his optics as he opened his own spark chamber.

Megatron’s presence in his spark faded completely and Optimus shook as the merge finally broke. He didn’t dare look. If he looked then it was _over_ and he couldn’t yet bear it if it was an unhappy ending.

The sounds of an engine trying to start reached his audials. A cough, a splutter, a choke. Nothing like a healthy frame.

Silence.

Optimus shuddered.

"Please," he whispered.

Then, a hand. Claws cupped Optimus’s face. A hot vent on his mouth.

Megatron was kissing him.

"Optimus."

Optimus opened his optics, blinking away the film of lubricant that had gathered.

" _Megatron_."

Optimus kissed him. He didn’t stop until Megatron began to cough.

"I would love to keep going," Megatron said wryly, "but I appear to have been stabbed through the spark once or twice."

"Don’t joke about that," Optimus said, vents going all shuddery for a moment again.

He sat back. Megatron’s spark was visible through the rents in his armour. He pushed himself up with several winces.

"Ratchet will be —"

"— happy to finish me off again," Megatron interrupted.

"... we have Knock Out in custody," Optimus offered.

"Better." Megatron got to his feet and clutched Optimus for support. "And then?"

"Then we can work out terms for Autobots and Decepticons to rebuild Cybertron, together," Optimus said.

"Aren’t you putting the cart before the zap-horse?" Megatron said. "First we get me repaired, then I show you my _appreciation_ for your rescue. We can work out an Autobot surrender after that."

"We won, Megatron," Optimus said tiredly.

Megatron laughed with an edge of something hard. "I suppose you did."

He kissed Optimus again. His spark was pulsing contentment and love through the gaps in his armour.

"Do you not want to work together again?" Optimus asked. "We are at our best when complementing one another."

He felt Megatron smile against his mouth. "Later, Optimus, after I overload you so hard you forget your name."

"Later," Optimus agreed.

There would _be_ a later, and that was all Optimus could have asked for.

**Author's Note:**

> Come say hi over at [transformersvn.tumblr.com](https://transformersvn.tumblr.com) where I make Transformers visual novels.


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